


How Can Wrong Become Right?

by samwise_baggins



Series: Wrong [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bondage, Cousin Incest, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26150086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samwise_baggins/pseuds/samwise_baggins
Summary: Somehow being wrong can become right, when faced with something worse
Relationships: Lobelia Sackville-Baggins/Otho Sackville-Baggins, Merry Brandybuck/Pippin Took
Series: Wrong [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898938
Kudos: 14





	How Can Wrong Become Right?

**Author's Note:**

> Setting: LotR: After Bilbo leaves, before Frodo leaves.

"Oy! Where's Pip, then?"

Merry's voice was soft, slurred, and bleary with drink and the long day. He was sprawled out on a comfortable chair, an almost empty mug of ale dangling from one hand. There was an air of lazy contentment about the young Hobbit.

The party had been glorious: lots of ale, plenty of company, and more food than had been eaten. In fact, this party almost eclipsed Frodo's coming-of-age birthday, without the disappearance of one of the guests of honor. Yes, the coming-of-age of Meriadoc Brandybuck would be talked about for years to come, and that was just how Merry liked it.

The party had been thrown by Frodo, Merry's cousin up in Hobbiton, at Bag End. With the amount of room and money available to Frodo, the party had gone on well into the night. In fact, the last of the guests had just stumbled down the lane. Well, all the guests except the three scheduled to sleep over at Bag End: Samwise Gamgee, Peregrin Took, and Meriadoc Brandybuck, himself.

Frodo and Sam were also sprawled out on chairs, amidst the debris of the party, but Pippin, or Peregrin in his more formal address, was nowhere to be seen. That usually meant mischief, which Merry always threw himself whole-heartedly into. But Pip hadn't mentioned any plans, and he had been gone for a good fifteen minutes, thus, Merry's lazy query concerning his best friend's whereabouts.

Frodo lifted his head from where it lay on the back of his favorite chair. He blinked his large, almost fathomless blue eyes several times, then shook his head as if to clear it. Looking around, a frown marred Frodo's almost too pretty features. "Don't know, Merry . . . was here just a moment ago."

"Went for a blanket to fight the chill," was the addition of Samwise.

The others turned to their friend and equal grins split their faces. It was rather impossible not to grin at the sight poor Mister Gamgee made. He was sprawled like the other two, empty ale mug at his feet and a plate of mere crumbs on the little table at his elbow. But what made him humorous was that the sturdy, heavy set Hobbit had a woman's bonnet perched on his blond curls and a lacey shawl draped over his legs. He resembled nothing more than an old granny by the fire, and the sight was one that inspired giggles and snorts.

If asked, Sam would not have been able to recall just when he'd wound up dressed in such fashion. Actually, it hadn't been that long ago. The good Hobbit had briefly drifted off just before Pippin had left for more blankets, and was totally unaware of their youngest companion draping the clothing over him. Of course, the bonnet and shawl belonged to Frodo's hated cousin, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, so they wouldn't be permitted to play with the bits of lace and fluff for long. But while they had the chance, Pippin had utilized it . . . and, as a result, poor, unsuspecting Sam couldn't figure out just what had set his friends to laughing. Being a good-natured sort of Hobbit, he joined in, though, much to the glee of Merry and Frodo.

"Ah . . . ah . . . ah . . ." Merry tried to catch his breath from laughing so hard. "Oh, Pip would love this."

Frodo nodded then broke into more giggles as Sam blinked, grinning, and asked, "What are we laughing at?"

Merry shook his head. "I'm going to get Pip . . . Sam, don't you move a whisker . . . this is just too funny." And with that, he heaved himself from his seat and stumbled merrily from the room.

With a laugh, Frodo rose to join Merry in the hunt. "If he wants a blanket, he'll be in one of the bedrooms. I'll help."

The two cousins headed down the hallway, talking about the party and giggling over the amusing way Sam was dolled up. Merry called out for Pip, when he remembered to, in a sing-song fashion "Pippin, Oy, Pippin Took, where be you, you scamp?"

**************

Where Peregrin Took was at that moment was Hell.

He'd finished draping Sam with the lacey frills of Lobelia Sackville-Baggins then declared he wanted a blanket. Setting down his ale mug on the edge of the table, unaware that it had tumbled to the carpet and spilt the dregs, the youngest of the quartet wandered towards the bedchambers of Frodo's home. He wanted something to complete Sam's get up. A nice frilly pink blanket would be perfect. Naturally, Pip was too inebriated to consider that Frodo would hardly keep pink frilly blankets. He just assumed, naturally, that whatever he needed would be had from the depths of this very large, very well furnished Hobbit Hole.

After the third room, Pip's mind wandered over what other pranks he might pull this night. There'd be an entire night at his cousin's house, celebrating his other cousin's coming-of-age, and Peregrin did not intend to waste a moment of it in something as mundane and boring as sleep. He wanted to have fun. After all, one only came of age once in a lifetime. This coming-of-age had to be the best coming-of-age ever seen in the Shire. Pip wanted Merry's day to be remembered forever.

Merry deserved it.

His cousin was not only his relative he was his best friend. If something went wrong, Merry was there to fix things. If something went right, Merry was there to cheer and lift him up high. If things were lazy and relaxed, Merry was there to just lie on the grass and talk with. Through everything in Pip's life, Merry had been there. He'd come up with brilliant pranks and even more brilliant excuses. He'd explained things that no one else had been able to make clear. He'd taught him about growing up in ways even his father hadn't managed.

Pippin owed everything to Merry. After all, Pip was too curious for his own good. He was too slow for everyone else's good. And he was too young and confused for his family's good. But Merry didn't mind. In fact, there was only one thing about Pip that he thought Merry would mind . . . and he hadn't told Merry about _that_.

He couldn't tell Merry about that. It would make Merry look at him in horror and disgust. He'd leave and never come round anymore. If Pip told, Merry wouldn't be his friend anymore. And Pippin couldn't lose Merry. If he lost Merry, he'd have no reason to live.

With a sigh, Pip tried to chase the thoughts away. He had no clue when he'd figured out he was in love with his cousin. Maybe he'd always loved him. He certainly had for too long to remember the beginning.

So then when had he realized? When Merry gave him a birthday gift of a gray patterned scarf today? Maybe when Merry had helped him filch that fire work from Gandalf the Gray on Frodo's coming-of-age? Or was it when Merry had rescued Pip from drowning, then helped the embarrassed, confused younger Hobbit by relieving the erection he'd gotten when Merry had dressed his wounds? Or could it have been when his father had told him that it was unnatural and impossible for Pip to love a male Hobbit? And had looked at him with such horror that Pip swore he'd never tell Merry . . . never risk having his best friend look at him in that same way.

Standing outside the fourth bedroom, Pip shook his head, dark curls bouncing. It was getting harder and harder to pretend that everything was right, normal. This feeling kept growing, and he just wanted to shout it out and tell Merry about it. But he couldn't. And it was eating him up inside. And there came those stupid, stupid tears again!

Pip let out a frustrated blast of air and wiped harshly at his teary eyes. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't! His father had caught him crying just last week over this problem. Thankfully, he'd believed Pip when the young Hobbit had claimed that he had a headache. The only son of the Took family had been bundled up into bed and nursed back to health by his older sisters right quick. That had been an annoying day for Pip, as all he'd wanted to do was cry about not being able to love Merry.

Naturally, when one was morose and pondering one's problems, one's mind was not at its sharpest concerning outside influences. Thus, Pip was taken completely by surprise when he opened the fourth door and was yanked into the room. Blinking in the dark chamber, he couldn't figure out what was going on . . . had Merry gotten up a prank and wanted Pip along?

Pip smiled, "Oy, Merry, what a fright you gave me!"

The hard pressure of a hand clamping over his mouth alerted Pip that this wasn't his cousin, bent on a lark. Besides, Merry didn't wear perfume . . . and this person seemed to be drenched in the cloying scent of hyacinths. Only one Hobbit wore that much of such an annoying scent . . . Lobelia Sackville-Baggins.

A male's voice out of the darkness gave away that the woman was accompanied by her husband, Otho. "It's the Took boy, dear."

"Perfect. I would have preferred that disgraceful Frodo, but this will do fine. It's been a long time since there's been a young one in the house. I miss that . . . innocence."

Lobelia's voice sent a chill up Pippin's spine. It was something about the way she said _innocence_ ; somehow, Pip found himself wishing he hadn't gone off to look for that stupid blanket after all. He wriggled, trying to get free, not wanting to see just why Lobelia had missed _innocence_.

"Hurry up, then, Otho. He's giving me a fight. Slippery bugger, this one."

Then, a light was struck, and Otho lit several candles by the bed.

Pippin blinked in the sudden brightness, and tried to adjust his eyes. He had fallen quiet in Lobelia's grasp while blinking, making it unfortunately all too easy for the Hobbit woman to start pushing and dragging him towards the bed. When he was adjusted to the illumination, Pip wished he hadn't been. Otho was stripped nude and held some type of strap in his hands, a lascivious grin spread over his fat face.

Lobelia thrust Pippin onto the bed, and before the Hobbit could right himself and crawl to escape, Otho had the strap around his neck. "I don't think so, lad. You'll stay right here and be good to us, you will. If you know what's good for you, that is."

A snort from the older Hobbit's wife gave her opinion of the matter. "Tooks ain't big on sense, Otho . . . especially this youngest one. But you give him a yank, and he'll understand."

Otho nodded and tightened the makeshift noose on Pip's neck. Pip gasped, and raised his hands to claw at the leather biting into his tender throat, cutting into his air supply. Otho loosened it just a bit. "You understand real well, don't you, lad? Good, now. Just you lie still, no sounds out of you now, and we'll enjoy ourselves."

Pip highly doubted that he'd enjoy himself one little bit, but he lay quiet and still. He didn't want to aggravate them and maybe get choked to death in the bargain. He had no clue what it was they wanted from him, but he'd try to cooperate until one of the others thought to look for him. Sam would, wouldn't he? To get even with the lacey cap and shawl at least, right? Pip hoped so . . . oh, Elbereth, he hoped so.

Before Pip could think what might happen next, Otho yanked him to a sitting position and tied the strap to the head of the bed. Then, he lay the young Took down, gently. That gentleness was almost obscene when one thought about what the couple had planned. The older Hobbits tied a leather strap to each of Pip's wrists and yanked them apart, hard, tying them off to the bedposts.

Pip's eyes widened in horror. Why were they tying him to the bed? His answer came when the other Hobbits pulled his legs apart and fastened leather straps to his ankles. They wouldn't . . . they couldn't!

But they were. Lobelia took out a nasty looking eating knife, slightly rusty and a bit twisted. It looked as if it had been jammed into a windowsill, to keep it closed, for a long time. She leaned over, grinning, the cloying scent of her perfume making Pip's stomach turn. "Hey, now, little Took. We're going to play a game. You like games. You'll absolutely adore this one. You're going to do whatever we say, and if you do, we'll have fun. Sound like a fair game, don't it?"

With those words, she tore through Pip's clothing, piece by piece. As they fell away, and she pulled the pieces off and tossed them to the floor, Lobelia's eyes lit up brighter and brighter. "Oh . . . a well formed little Hobbit, aren't you? I am so going to enjoy this!"

Otho yanked the leather strap on Pip's left ankle hard, sliding it in a burning sensation up to his knee. Then, grinning wide, Otho tied the strap to the one on Pip's wrist. Tottering around the bed, he repeated this treatment with Pip's right leg and wrist.

Unclothed, trussed up in a revealing, uncomfortable position, and at the mercy of Frodo's hated cousins, Pip felt blackness start to creep around the edges of his vision. He felt sick, and wanted to vomit, but was afraid of what might happen if he did. Tied on his back like this, he'd most likely choke; so he fought the sensation. Tears welled up in his eyes, and Pip wished Merry would come save him right then.

Then he wished Merry wouldn't come save him. He didn't want Merry to see him like this. Helpless and exposed . . . a plaything for the Sackville-Bagginses. It would be too horrible. It would be worse than if Merry found out how unnatural Pip was. Okay . . . maybe not _that_ bad, but still pretty bad.

Lobelia climbed onto the bed, licking her lips, sliding herself forward on hands and knees to end over top of Pippin. Pip closed his eyes, but a sharp slap to his cheek made his eyes fly open. "You will watch and learn. You'll pleasure us tonight . . . and if you ever tell anyone, they'll know what a sick, twisted, unnatural Hobbit you are for even thinking up such a thing."

Nodding, Otho beamed. "She's right you know. After all, we're highly respected members of the Shire. You, on the other hand, are a boy with a wild streak who spends far too much time causing trouble with his cousin. You're a Took, he's a Brandybuck, and you would be scoffed at for coming up with such petty lies about us. So, enjoy, and we may just come around again on another lonely night to play."

Pip choked on a sob.

Lobelia reached between his legs. He shuddered at the contact, feeling sick all over again. She frowned, then shot a glare at her husband.

"He's not even a bit ready, Otho. I think he doesn't like girls." She was pouting, the cruel barb meant only as a joke.

Pip took it as serious. _Elbereth! How'd she figure it out? Was that supposed to feel good?_ He wanted to panic. Lobelia had figured out his horrible secret, and she'd tell everyone. And Merry would find out . . .

Otho pushed Lobelia away from Pip and climbed onto the bed. He reached down a rough hand and tugged. Pip whimpered in pain. With a glare, Otho again tugged and twisted, painfully. "You'll get hard, lad, see if you don't. You'll get hard or I'll choke you!"

Pip closed his eyes, not caring if he was slapped again. He couldn't stand to see what was happening. Bad enough it was happening at all. Mentally, he cried out, 'Merry! Oh, Merry, I need you! Help me!"

He felt Otho grind him and blacked out at the pain.

More pain brought the young Hobbit back to consciousness, and he had to fight not to vomit. Otho was still grinding, and Lobelia was rubbing her hands over her own body in a grotesque display. Pippin couldn't even figure out what was exciting the two Hobbits so much. All he felt was pain and horror.

It felt like hours passed, hours of torment, when Lobelia looked frustrated. "That's not working you old coot. I'm ready now, and I mean to have him now. Give over and let me have a go." She then crawled back onto the bed as Otho drew his hand back.

The relief from pain brought tears to Pippin's eyes again, and he almost wanted to thank Lobelia for her interference. Almost. But Pip didn't, because he had no clue what horrible thing Lobelia meant to do with him now, and it could easily be worse than Otho's grinding.

It wasn't as bad, at least, from a physical point. She ran her hand over his abdomen and made a mewling noise in her throat. Bringing herself over the young Hobbit, Lobelia thrust one breast into his face. Pip closed his eyes, and felt her jam her flesh at him again. "Suck on it, you moron!"

Pip's eyes shot open and he looked up at her in confusion. He shook his head, not understanding why she wanted him to nurse like an infant. His delay caused pain as Otho twisted the strap.

"You'll do as you're told, you Took, and quick about it. Lobelia says suck, you suck, now!"

He opened his mouth, letting the woman thrust into it. He nearly choked as she tried to cram more in. Gasping, trying to breathe through a nose almost covered by the overflow, Pip gave a hesitant suck then gagged. The woman was thrusting her chest into his face, choking him.

"Yes . . . good boy . . . that's the way." Then Lobelia ran her hand over his tummy again, to end between his legs. He winced as she came in contact with his abused member, though the pain was nearly gone now. Her hands were clinging and felt too soft. It didn't feel right. Not like the time Merry had touched him.

Closing his eyes, Pip let himself drift to a happier time. It had been confusing, and scary, but it had been Merry. Merry would never hurt him. It had been a day that had ended in confused pleasure, never to be repeated, thus cherished all the more. Smiling slightly, Pip tried to regain the feeling of peace he'd had that afternoon.

Unfortunately, Otho and Lobelia wouldn't even let him daydream. A sharp tug on his neck leather brought him back to awareness, choking against leather and suffocating flesh. Lobelia backed up and moved her other breast over his mouth. She was caressing him now, trying to make him hard.

It wasn't working, and both Sackville-Bagginses were getting annoyed.

"We'll have to give him a good blow, Lobelia my love. Worked with Frodo, you know. It works with any young male." Otho's voice held a bit of an anticipatory whine. He wanted to be the one to do it to Pippin.

Pip felt sick as the realization that they'd probably done this to Frodo sank in. Poor Cousin Frodo, to have been through this. Or . . . had he enjoyed it? Father had never said that this was part of sex . . . but it could be, couldn't it? If it was, Pippin didn't want anything more to do with sex, ever! This felt wrong . . . more wrong than Pippin could ever be in his love for Merry.

Lobelia wrapped her hand around him and held him up. He tried to see, but then looked away once more. She was desperately trying to unite them, and it certainly wasn't working. She got mad and tugged roughly, and Pip cried out in pain. Then she tightened his neck strap. "We said no noise, Took!"

Eyes overflowing with tears, Pip gulped and gasped for air. His head was spinning, and he had to fight the nausea again. He couldn't let them know how sick he was feeling. They'd get angrier . . . and might even kill him! He tried to blink away the tears, but it only served to send them streaming down his face.

"Oy, Pippin! Where are you! Come on out, Pip!"

It was the sweetest sound Pip had ever heard: the call of Merry's voice. He forgot about not wanting to be seen in such a way; he wanted to be saved. Sounds of doors opening and closing marked just how close the searching Hobbit was coming.

Otho and Lobelia exchanged panicked glares then scrambled to gather their clothes. They didn't even bother dressing, but crawled out the window. They were away a full minute before the door opened, causing the candles to flicker and flare and settle once more.

"Pippin?" Frodo glanced into the room then stopped still as a statue. All color drained from his face, and his eyes grew huge in horror. Then Frodo Baggins passed out, the sound of his limp body hitting the ground bringing Merry running.

"Frodo? Hey, Frodo Baggins! What's happened?" Merry leaned over his cousin, trying to figure out what had caused the older Hobbit to faint. He looked into the room and the color fled his face.

Pip was afraid Merry would pass out, too. Then he'd be stuck here for who knew how long. And he wouldn't be able to help Frodo or Merry, either. So, Pippin Took whimpered.

Merry's color came back with a vengeance and then some. He was flushed, now, anger in his eyes. Striding quickly into the room, he spoke not a word as he headed directly for Pip on the bed. Merry started untying the neck strap with shaking hands.

Cringing, whimpering in new fear, Pip couldn't figure out why Merry was so angry. Was it that Pip had been . . . well . . . involved? Did he think his young cousin had abused Frodo's hospitality? _Oh, please, Merry. Say something. Anything! Even if you yell at me . . . Just not silence. I can't bear it. What have I done?_

Then, the strap was loose, and Merry was working on his knees and wrists. He still hadn't said anything as he worked, just methodically untying and unstrapping Pippin's limbs, still shaking in anger, eyes blazing.

Frodo woke up with a groan. He looked up, blinking, thinking what he'd seen had been a horrible nightmare. But . . . no . . . there was Peregrin Took, harnessed and nude. It was a flashback to something he'd never wanted to live through again. Frodo wasn't even aware that he started keening.

Merry whirled around at the unearthly sound coming from his cousin. "Frodo?" He left Pip then and hurried to Frodo's side. Kneeling, Merry tried to draw him into a comforting hug, but Frodo lashed out eyes wide in fear, keen intensifying.

"What in the world? Frodo, it's me, Merry! What's gotten into you!" Merry grabbed Frodo's wrists, trying to hold him still.

Frodo went wild at the restraint, screaming now, and fighting hard. He kicked, clawed, tried to bite, anything to get free. And still his screams filled the whole of Bag End.

Hobbits were naturally quiet beings, but there were times that even a Hobbit made a racket. And when Sam barreled down the hall to save Frodo from whatever had caused that awful screaming, well, he made enough racket to draw wights out of the barrows. Skidding to a halt, nearly colliding with Merry, Sam knelt and pushed the Brandybuck away with a glare.

"What have you done to Mister Frodo?" He sounded angry, upset that anyone would think to harm his master.

Merry shook his head, backing off, ending next to the bed and Pippin. "I've done nothing, Samwise Gamgee! He was passed out when I came in, and when he woke, he started fighting and screaming!" Upset, confused, Merry whirled around, his back to Sam and Frodo, and finished untying Pippin. "I wouldn't hurt Frodo, and you know it Sam Gamgee!"

Sam tried to draw Frodo into his strong arms, but was met with the same sort of resistance Merry had found. Frowning, Sam took only a second or two to think then slapped Frodo sharply across the face. The screams stopped, and the keening resumed as Frodo started rocking, tears streaming down his face. Sam wrapped his arms around the now unprotesting Frodo.

"Well, something's got him worked up, Mister Merry!" Sam looked up, then gasped at the sight of Pip slowly drawing the strap from around his neck. "Elbereth! What happened to you, Mister Pippin?"

Pip shook his head, then covered his face and joined in Frodo's tears. His entire body shook in the aftermath of the horror he'd endured. He couldn't talk just yet, but he understood Frodo completely.

With a soft curse, Merry drew Pippin into his arms and rocked him gently. He cradled the dark head against his strong shoulder and made soothing, nonsensical noises to his cousin. The position was hard on his back, so he simply crawled onto the bed, and pulled Pippin firmly into his lap, cuddling and rocking. "Oy, Peregrin . . . my Peregrin. Everything's right now. Your Merry's here, and won't leave again. Come on, Peregrin Took, you look at me . . ."

Pip blinked, shaking, and looked up as instructed. What he saw brought one last shudder over his slight form, then a strange calmness filled him. Merry's eyes were worried and loving. He wasn't angry at all! With a gasp, Pip slipped his arms around Merry's neck and burrowed against him, crying into his shirt. Merry wrapped his arms around him more securely.

Sam still hadn't managed to break Frodo out of his fit. The older Hobbit kept right on keening, no matter what Sam said or tried. He was getting scared, now, and turned to Merry for help. "I can't calm him, Mister Merry." Sam's voice was desperate, upset. "He won't calm down . . ."

Pip lifted his face enough to say, "It was them . . . they did it to him, too . . ."

Merry gently lifted Pip's chin with one strong hand. "Who did this to Frodo, Pip?"

"The Sa . . . Sa . . . Sackville . . . Bagginses, Merry. They did it. They said they'd done it to Frodo, too." Then Pip buried his face once more into Merry's shoulder and shuddered. Merry's arms tightened supportively.

Sam grew pale then flushed, as Merry had before him. "What? They trussed Mister Pippin . . . and Mister Frodo up like a goose? But why?"

Shaking his head softly, Merry looked gently down at Sam. "There are some, Samwise, who enjoy hurting others. It makes them feel good."

Sam shook his head, not comprehending how hurting someone could feel good. "If you say so, Mister Merry. But it don't make no sense, if you know what I mean. Hurting people's never been something I could fathom. I'm taking Mister Frodo to his own room. He needs rest." Then, the sturdy Hobbit stood, bent to scoop up his unprotesting master, and gently carried him from the room, as a mother with a precious babe. Sam softly kicked the door shut behind him.

Merry sighed then turned back to Pippin. "Oy, Pip, look at me?"

Pippin looked up, but dropped his eyes immediately. "I'm . . . I'm sorry, Merry . . ." his voice was a bare whisper, and Merry had to lean in to catch the words.

A frown marring his forehead, Merry tilted his head. "Sorry for what, Pip? Certainly you didn't ask them to attack you?"

"They . . ." he shook his head, "No . . . but they . . . they said no one would believe me, Merry. That they'd know what an . . . an . . ." and Pip broke into fresh tears. "Would know what an unnatural Hobbit I am . . ."

Merry's eyes widened. "Pip, you are not an unnatural Hobbit! It wasn't your fault those . . . well . . . those unnatural people attacked you." He cupped his cousin's face, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. It brought to mind that day he'd saved Pip from drowning. Pip had cried, then, too . . . had reacted as if he were . . . _wrong_.

Slowly, gently, Merry lifted Pip's face so he could see into his cousin's eyes. "Pip . . . who told you that you were unnatural? Whoever said it was wrong!"

Pip shook his head. "No, he was right. I am unnatural, Merry, I am! I see that now."

Shaking his head, Merry drew Pippin against his chest, hugging him fiercely. "He was a liar, whoever he was, Pippin. You are the most natural Hobbit I know."

"He was my _father_ , Merry!"

Merry stilled. Then he made a noise similar to a canine growling at someone who'd threatened its pups. "I don't care if he's your father or the Mayor. He's a liar, Pip. He's wrong. You aren't unnatural, and you in no way deserved to be attacked like that!"

With a groan, Pip pushed away from the secure embrace of Merry's arms. "No! He was right, Merry." Pip raised a hand to Merry's lips, stilling what he would say next, trembling at the softness . . . his sudden desire to kiss his cousin senseless. "I didn't ask to be attacked; I'm not silly enough to believe I deserved that, Merry. But my father was right. I'm . . . not right; there's something wrong with me. But it's something I'll deal with, and you don't have to worry about it . . . or about . . ." Pip stopped, dropping his hand from Merry's lips to cover his own face, instead.

He felt Merry tug at his hands and tried to resist. Merry tugged more insistently. "Pip? Oy, Pippin, look at me? Please? Whatever you think is wrong with you, I'm here. I'll help you through it. I'll take care of you, like I always have. Don't you ever forget that, Pippin."

Pip raised his head, shaking it in denial. "No, Merry. You can't fix this. I was born wrong. And you won't want to be near me anymore, either." He had to; had to tell Merry now . . . so Merry would understand. He didn't want to . . . Elbereth, but this hurt. He needed Merry now more than he ever had before, but that was the very reason he had to tell his cousin the secret he'd kept hidden for the past years. "I . . . I like boys, Merry." Then, Pip hung his head, not wanting to see the horror, the disgust . . . not wanting to see his most cherished Merry pull away from him.

There was a moment of silence while everything seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the outcome of Pip's admission. It didn't have the chance to stretch more than a minute, though. Pippin heard Merry groan, and then felt himself pulled against his cousin's chest once more, a hand tangling gently in his curls in an age-old gesture of comfort.

Pulling away, Pip's eyes welled up. "No, Merry, you didn't hear me right! I said I like _boys_. I mean, not just to be friends with, Merry. I mean, I like boys like other lads like _girls_." But this time, Pippin couldn't draw his gaze from Merry's face. He knew he'd see the understanding, then the horror, but he couldn't help it. He had to see Merry, no matter how horrible it would be.

Merry shook his head, and tugged Pip against himself once more. "I heard you right the first time, Pip, so stop shouting. You'll just get Sam upset, and he's got more than enough worry for Frodo right now. He doesn't need to leave Frodo's bed to come check on us."

Pip was confused. He was expecting Merry to leave, to draw away, but he wasn't. Instead, he was hugging him. He sounded normal, not hateful. He was talking about normal things like Sam helping Frodo, not . . . not acting like he'd just heard Pip's most horrible, terrible secret. Pippin blinked.

Merry's face hadn't changed, though. It still held that concerned, loving look it had before Pip had spilled his secret. It was still the strong-jawed, broad face of the Hobbit he fell in love with. It was still Merry.

And it was starting to smile softly.

"Pippin, you look so lost and scared. I told you, everything's fine. I'm here now, and nothing bad'll happen to you again, if I can help it." Merry gently lifted Pip's face so he could smile into his friend's eyes. "I'm here . . . Merry. Your best friend."

He blinked then shook his head. "But Merry . . . I just told you . . ."

"Yes, that you like boys. It's okay, Pip, really it is. Is that what's kept you pulling away from me all this time? I thought I'd done something wrong!"

Pip shook his head. "Oh, no, Merry! Not you! You've never been wrong! _I_ have."

With a soft laugh, Merry's face transformed from worried cousin to sunny friend. "Pip, you've never been wrong a day in your life! You're father's a daft old fool." He hugged Pippin to him again, his voice gentle and soothing as he continued to speak. "It's true that most Hobbits wouldn't agree with me, Pip. That most Hobbits would think like your father. And that means you have to be careful that most Hobbits don't find out. But, Pip, there are some of us who feel the same way. And we'll never hurt you because you feel that way."

"Some of . . . _us_?" Pip drew back once more and frowned up at Merry. "What . . ."

Merry nodded, smiling still. "Yes, Peregrin Took. I like boys, too. Or, more specifically: I . . . Love . . . _You_."

Pip gasped, eyes wide. He shook his head. "You? Love _me_?" It was his fondest wish . . . and so he must have heard wrong. Merry couldn't have just said what he thought he'd said . . . could he?

Leaning closer, Merry cupped Pip's face in his hands, smiling at the younger Hobbit. "Yes, Peregrin. I love you. I have ever since I can remember. I was just waiting for you to grow up . . . hoping that maybe you would some day love me back." With those words, Merry brought his mouth down in a sweet, soft kiss, sealing Pip's mouth with his own.

Pippin moaned, giving in to the sensations that washed over him. He'd dreamed of this moment, but never knew that fire and ice could wash over one all together. Never imagined that he would feel so . . . complete. Never dared to believe that he could be so loved.

Suddenly, everything was right . . . even being wrong.


End file.
